


Stiles' doughy progress

by CharlRhodes



Series: The Corruption of the Pack [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe, Character Development, Chubby Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Chubby Stiles Stilinski, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Doorway problems, Food, Food Kink, Force-Feeding, Getting Stuck, Good Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Jealous Stiles Stilinski, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Spells & Enchantments, Stiles Stilinski is a Tease, Weight Gain, fat!Scott, fat!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22613254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlRhodes/pseuds/CharlRhodes
Summary: The spell that hit Scott had changed the young Alpha beyond one's imagination.With a new, improved and happier Scott, shouldn't it be Stiles' turn?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Corruption of the Pack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619716
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	1. I want you to be happy like me.

Despite the transformation of his best friend, which should have been drastically alarming, Stiles had to admit Scott was doing great. 

Stiles' worries always melted away at the sight of his enlarged buddy. Something was fascinating about the way he looked and acted, making Stiles, to his utter surprise, jealous. 

Since Scott had been bitten by Peter, his new powers had largely improved his life; no more asthma, newfound self-confidence and a hotter body. But, since Scott's change of attitude, especially his unique lack of restraint on food and laziness, Scott had become something more. He could not explain what it was, but Stiles was sure he wanted it. 

Since the "Cookies Tackle" a month prior, Stiles had made sure to spend as much time as his best friend, mostly visiting him with breakfast before work and after with burritos or pizzas. If Scott had not said anything about the growing attention and attraction from Stiles, he thrived with it. If Scott had become truly indolent those past months, he could not pass up being pampered by his friend who apparently smelt attracted and envious of him. 

Stiles was, again, lurking at his friend slouched on the couch, his body daily expanded outward. 

  
His paunch now billowed to his kneecaps, and his buttcheeks hid the couch seat completely. His legs had thickened to carry his mountainous blubber belly. If it was not for his werewolf's powers, Stiles could swear his best friend could not get up as easily from the couch. His once softened, but still chiselled features were now nothing but two globular cheeks and a double chin. 

Stiles had never asked Scott how much weight he had put on since he started spoiling him, but from what the pale boy could see, he had successfully passed 400 pounds; a weight no normal human being, and supernatural, could reach in less than three months. He had many times though of talking about it to Deaton and research, but the sight of Scott always assured him it was not that unnormal, even if Stiles would swear he could literally see Scott's stomach expanding outwards, and his thighs inflating.

Scott was content with his recent development. Everything in his life was perfect; his mood, his social life since Stiles had come back hanging out with him, and his physique. Oh, yes, his frame. He was sexier than ever. He was powerful, massive and overflowing with mass. 

He was the ultimate hot girl, and Stiles was showing him that. The lanky boy was worshipping him by helping him being a more perfect version of himself. He could feel how Stiles was dedicated. He never mentioned it, but he could feel how his best bro was envious. The Alpha could understand why. Stiles was not a werewolf, he was just a regular human. Not that it seemed to count in the past, but he could feel Stiles wanted to be as good as Scott. He was not blaming him, afterall Scott had truly blossomed since May. 

He had been torn between smugness, as he was happy Stiles was so jealous, and the desire to help his brother-from-another-mother to reach his greatness. He really loved Sties. He had been here for him countless times, and it sounded normal to Scott to help him back. Stiles' life had not been easy, picked out by their peers at school, orphan, and being the odd-man in their Pack. 

Using his werewolf speed and force, he hauled himself up, grabbed Stiles and let himself fall backwards his globular ass, crushing the entire couch, the action throwing Stiles closer to him. 

Stiles, disorientated by the crash, felt Scott's arm reaching over his shoulders and plainly engulf him. The amplified and softened shoulders, arms, boobs and belly, was the most pleasant embrace he had ever experienced as he willingly made himself sink even more into Scott's flesh. He could fell the blubber expand with each deep breath Scott was taking, submerging him a little more, while he could feel the fattened head of his friend on the crook of his neck, scenting him. It was pure bliss for Stiles. It felt so right for him to be in this position, safe and sound in the arms of his Alpha.

He didn't know how long they stayed there, but sooner than Stiles could have wished, he felt something being pushed in his mouth. From the taste of it, it was a burrito Stiles had brought to Scott. He opened his eyes to see a determined look in his friend's eyes as he was pushing the food vigorously in his mouth. He tried to struggle the iron grip of the massive wolf, but Scott did not move. 

"Let me help you with that!" He softly said, still forcing the burrito into his mouth. "I want you to be happy like me. I can see you're wasting away."

"Mmmph!" Stiles tried to argue as he was obliged to chew and shallow on the food Scott was still holding. What was he doing?! Had he lost his mind?! For a moment, he was sure he could feel a panic attack building up in his chest, but it evaporated to allow a bunch of positive feelings. As he bit more and more into the food, Scott was so kindly offering, he felt so right. He had to eat that. It was necessary. Each bite seemed better than the other, soon the burrito was replaced by a second one. He could hear stop chuckling at his displayed greed for more. 

Stiles had never felt that before. He had never imagined you could feel so much satisfaction from food. Sure he liked his food, especially burgers and curly fries, but not with this degree of intensity. It was addicting. But soon as Stiles devoured another dish, Scott had provided him felt uncomfortable. Eating so quick and so much this impromptu snack had quickly filled his under-capacitated stomach. 

"Stop complaining and just eat," Scott said softly, pushing more into his mouth, snickering at the look of despair in Stiles' eyes. Stiles closed his eyes as he felt Scott meaty paws on the dome of his stuffed belly and fidgeting slightly to unfasten his pants, letting his tiny bloated belly puff out. Scott smiled when he heard Stiles sighed in content. 

"Trust me, bro, you'll learn to love it." He softly said to his best friend, delicately kissing the top of his head, while Stiles was greedily chewing on the food. "We all be happy."


	2. A minute on your lips, a lifetime on the hips

Scott McCall was happy with his best friend. Since he had shown him the way, Stiles was driving on the road of happiness. 

Scott was glad he could now share with his buddy how life should be. They were closer than ever now with Stiles joining his 'den' that was Scott's living room and kitchen. Despite all the food wrapper from their numerous dinners, breakfasts and snacks and the crushed furniture, it was their 'Home, sweet home'. 

It had felt like yesterday when Stiles was just a puny lithe human. Scott cherished the memories of Stiles first meals, when, between two pizzas Scott had to drain Stiles' belly pain. 

He laughed as he remembered how the tiny beach ball paunch was far outstretched over his friend's pants. Said pant Stiles had proudly burst days later. 

He had loved to see his friend's teeshirts ridding up to his deeper belly button and how his pale skin had developed tiny red stretch marks. As he was still working, part-time now, at the station. Scott always enjoyed seeing Stiles in his work clothes, especially when his small shirt left a few inches of rounded, moon pale stomach exhibited and how it was sharply wrinkled around his armpits and ribs, stretched tight over his larger frame. 

Stiles was now a big man. Scott had been pleased to see him going from 'depressed and unhappy anorexic' to aa' happy 300 pounder jumbo'. As impressed Scott was with the weight of the human, he was nowhere close to his mighty werewolfish 500. But as a human, it was understandable, but that never stopped Stiles to try to compete with Scott.

He was still working on his melted ice cream snacks, gulping down the pitcher of the heavy chocolate cream. Scott could see the look of happiness in his friend as the lighterman was softly moaning with pleasure.

His swollen gut was resting on the table, and some of the chocolate creams was dribbling out of his mouth and onto his double chin and round stomach. 

He stopped after gulping the last drop, breathing heavily, groaning at the pressure of his stomach, unfastening his pants to give the pale flesh more room. Not that it was enough as the shoddy torn piece of fabric had troubles to contain Stiles' hips and bottom, letting the top of his cheeks sticking out.

He threw a look at the rotund werewolf waddling slowly over the table, each heavy footfall setting his entire body wobbling. It was mesmerising how the overhanging gut bounced and swang independently between his legs. Stiles felt a pang of jealousy at the show his best friend was giving him, imagining himself at his tremendous, but still not enough size, he quickly covered it up with sarcasm and smirks. 

"Think it's time to cut back?" He smugly asked the wolf as he was breathing heavy from the exercise. 

Scott answered the comment by flashing his eyes red and growling, making his tan glorious flesh wobbling, and crossed his arms across his watermelon-sized breast. 

"Shut up! Just toss me a pizza or five..." He growled, his eyes set on the boxes of fresh pizzas, waiting for the human to give them to him as his magnificent appendage would block his way. Scott could have seen the loss of mobility as a downside, but it was the case. Scotty was the apex totem of happiness, it was just normal that smaller, tinier and sadder persons would obey his demands and keep him reaching ecstasy. 

"I'm guessing you've never heard the phrase 'A minute on your lips, a lifetime on the hips'?" Stiles said, rolling his eyes, wiping the chocolate from his sausagy-fingers on his gorgeous pale belly, grabbing the gallon of eggnog to chug it and push his full stomach to the limit.

"Look who's talking!" Scott growled teasingly, half angry because he had no food to eat at this instant and half humoured by the fact his best friend was suggesting dieting. Stiles sighed, recognising defeat. He was indeed pretty fat and the display of his belly resting on the table, covered with food stains, his destroyed pants and his own hunger - the fruit of his labour.

"Clever...Should have seen that one coming..." He grumbled as Scott plopped himself back down on the crushed couch. His posterior sinking into the worn pads, his belly rippling. He rested his arms atop his fat furry dome of a stomach, waiting for Stiles to comply. 

"Now hand me those pizzas. I'm losing happiness."


	3. I should probably cut back...after a few more pounds

Stiles Stilinski was stubborn. When he had an idea, he just followed it, even if he was in the wrong or that it could have threatened his life. For example, when he was 16, and despite Scott's warnings, he had tried to jump from the roof to the old oak in his backyard. Afterall, it was not fair that only werewolves could do that. He had stubbornly studied the way to do it, the speed he needed, the best angle, how high he had to jump and which branch he had to catch. 

Of course, he failed, and, thanks to Scott, who reacted quickly enough, that lousy scheme almost cost him a broken leg. 

He did not often doubt his decisions, especially since Scott had shown him the way of happiness. But, when he had put on his first dozen pounds of fat, he had faced many comments from his peers, slightly inflaming his brain. He had since then overthought his dedication to being a better version of himself. He was not as dedicated as Scott, who only now cared about his personal wellbeing and improved figure. He had told himself, fifty pounds ago, that he was going on a diet. But then, he had never felt so good. 

It was so hard to describe how he felt about the pillowy softness of his curves, the endless rolls spilling out of his frame, the melting of his jowls into his thick neck, the way his thighs were rubbing against each other... 

It was practically orgasmic for Stiles to feel how weighted down he was by the heft and bulk of his stomach, especially since he had also acquired a sizable overhang - still nowhere from Scott's. 

He loved how he always felt like he had not eaten all day, just eating and eating and eating, even when he started to feel an uncomfortable pressure of fullness coming from his belly, he would still felt hungry. This urge to just keep gorging and let himself go even more was now steadily occupying his though, easily obscuring any will to, at least, cut back and being more reasonable. 

No...' he told himself, after shovelling up two more brownie bites with his free hand, making sure he was able to fit as many pastries in his mouth. "Stop...' he tied, gulping as he stared down the three remaining chocolate-filled cakes in the box. 

'Resist' his brain told him, even if they looked outrageously tasty. He swore he tried to resist, but he found his hand reaching into the box, grabbing one and then bite into it. He let his mind being hit by the flavour, reaching nirvana. 

'I should probably cut back...' he decided, 'after a few more pounds.' He promised, shoving the last brownie into his mouth, the last one barely swallowed. 'Just a few more pounds and then I'll go on a diet and get back to shape..." A soft sound of pure pleasure escaping him, from the taste of the chocolate and not from the resolution. 'I will be happy.'


	4. I'm not grabbing the butter to unstick you from the doorway again, he said.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Derek Hale

Stiles was furious! How dare he! He needed another box of cinnamon buns to calm down. 

"I'm not grabbing the butter to unstick you from the doorway again, he said. Ha!" he pestered, impersonating Derek' fucking' Hale. 

The werewolf had been worried about his Alpha and his human sidekick. He had not heard from them in months. Granted, he had been visiting his sister in South-America, but he had expected the two teenagers to call or text him because he had witnessed their incapacity to stay out of trouble. But since the beginning of the summer, he had no contact. 

As soon as he was back in his loft, he went to the Stilinskis', only to find Stiles' room deserted and from what Derek could pick, the lanky teenager had not been here for weeks and was still not answering his phone. 

The same was for Scott. Derek had been a bit hurt with the fact his Alpha - not that he would admit out loud Scott was HIS Alpha - was not talking to him. 

He was a bit - if not more - reassured when he picked two heartbeats as soon as he was out of his car in front of McCall's house. It should have not been a surprise, afterall. The two boys were joined by the hips. A package deal as Stiles had once said. 

He heard heavy footsteps and grunts after knocking on the door, Scott -deep and muffled? - voice asking Stiles to answer the door and to pick their delivery. Derek smiled at that, expecting to spook the gangly human. 

But when the door opened, Derek could only see a wall of flesh spreading in the doorway.

He soon realised that the pale fat form in front of him was Stiles Stilinski! He gasped for air as words got stuck in his throat. What happened?! Long gone were the lithe too-pale and too-lanky hyperactive boy. He had been replaced by a sea of milky-flesh oozing in every direction, legs only apparent from the calves down, the rest being buried under hundred pounds of flesh. 

Derek could only recognise Stiles by the colour of his eyes and the constellation of moles on his face because his head was drowned in fat, his cheeks and chin and neck only forming one big doughy mass. 

The blob in front of him laughed, and he could see the fat hanging on Stiles' body shaking by his own as if animated by an exterior force. 

"Scott," Stiles' deeper voice announced, "Guess who's back?"

The tremendous mass tried to come to a still flabbergasted Derek but was abruptly unwillingly stopped as his bulk had kept him firmly in place.

Derek found himself staring at the Stilinski kid squirming hopelessly his bulbous thighs and posterior from the door. 

He realised three things at once.   
Firstly: What the heck?  
Secondly, that seeing the human become stuck like that was the most lascivious thing he had ever seen.   
Thirdly, that he should not be that surprised Stiles Stilinski found trouble. 

"Uhh..." the massive teen started, realising there was no way for him to get unstuck by himself. Derek could hear his heavy breathing from all his efforts. "Could you help, Srouwolf?"

Derek did not waste a second and gripped the round gut, feeling how huge and warm and soft it was. "When did you get this fat…?" he asked, using his werewolf strength to push him back inside, making the jumbo teen falling onto his balloon butt with a loud grunt. 

"Whaddya mean…?" he groaned, belly jutting into the air as he tried to lay back to catch his breath. He extended his fat-filled arms for Derek to reach. If the former-alpha put him back on his feet, it was with expected efforts as the teenager was obviously weighing five times his former weight. 

Derek felt heat invading his whole body at the sight Stiles was offering him as he waddled back to the living room. The way Stiles' body wobbled and swayed with the movement of all that weight, made Derek's wolf wild to reach out and touch the boy.

His newfound lust for the teenager's curves, as he was closely following him, intensified when his gaze darted to his Alpha. It was almost impossible for the Hale boy to recognise Scott as the former lacrosse co-captain he had once been had been swallowed up by layers and layers of fat.

  
Scott almost did not look like a person anymore as his body had swollen to greater highs, pinning him down on the remanents of his overfilled couch. His round, fat-filled head was resting directly on his swollen chest. It was two inflated watermelons in place of his former taunt pecs, pointing outwards to push his arms in an unnatural angle. But the real breath-taking vision was his gargantuan belly that forced his large thighs apart to rest heavily on the floor. 

Scott barely registered the newcomer in his house, busy finishing his remanent snack placed on his body. Derek had never felt this kind of arousal before, he could feel blushing deeply at the look of his packmates. 

That was how Derek discovered his new and magnified packmates: healthy, serene and happy.

Since then, he had visited the house frequently. Officially to ask about the territory of other Pack related subjects. But each time it was to lurk at the two happily growing teenagers. And, he had to admit he had taken a particular pleasure in helping unsticking Stiles Stilinski from doorways in many occasions. 

Stiles did not really bother. Afterall, it was time Derek Hale acknowledged his beauty. And he admitted he enjoyed the time Derek had to use butter to help him get out of the doorframe. 

What he did not appreciate was Derek pseudo-ultimatum. How dare he! He did not understand the sense of absolute enormousness Stiles felt nor the joy he had to take up more space inherently associated with being this soft and bulbous.

And the rapturous feeling of outgrowing every single shirt!   
And becoming too much of a behemoth for the furniture to handle!  
And the way he could feel the thousands of pizzas, burgers and pastries packed into his stomach to form his sheer mass.

'Derek wouldn't understand. But he will soon enough. I did, afterall. Derek Hale deserves nice things..."


End file.
